Allaying Ennui
by SC-Jupe
Summary: Vivaldi is the beautiful, daunting female not many dare cross. However, even she does not have everything. Alice, the sweet and odd foreigner, encounters adversity, despite her gracious intentions. In the end, only one woman will get what she wants.
1. Chapter 1

**Allaying Ennui** by SC-Jupe

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Joker/Clover/Heart no Kuni no Alice, which belongs to QuinRose.

**Summary **– Vivaldi is the beautiful, daunting female not many dare cross. However, even she does not have everything. Alice, the sweet and odd foreigner, encounters adversity, despite her gracious intentions. In the end, only one woman will get what she wants.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"How is Her Highness this morning?"

The faint lips of the faceless chambermaid addressed turned down slightly. "Ah, she is her usual self," she answered dispassionately. However, there was a barely detectable note of dismay in her voice.

The first maid who had spoken sighed lightly and carefully handed her stack of neatly folded linen to the second maid's outstretched arms. As she did so, she turned to see out one of the full length windows that lined the wide hallway, mainly to avert her eyes from the near-blinding whiteness of the cloth. "And it's such a lovely day, too," she remarked wistfully.

Indeed, it was. Across the grassy courtyard, the sun had risen almost halfway above the horizon line created by the trees of the forest. The sun itself was a pinkish orange color, but its pink coloring appeared to be slowly bleeding over the pale lavender of the pre-dawn sky. Songbird voices could almost be heard through the Castle of Hearts' broad walls; it was very nearly always springtime in the Castle of Hearts territory.

Lost in a trance of marveling at the colors of the sky, the first maid moved to open the window. The thought crossed her mind that she had not been assigned to hang the laundry out to dry that morning; thus, she might very possibly not hear the birds at all that day. _It will only be for the briefest of moments…_

"You!" hissed a third maid passing by, her arms overflowing with one of the Queen's dark gowns. The first maid jumped, being so abruptly startled from her trance. The second maid also had a look of surprise on her few features. Apparently she had been watching the sun rise as well, yet the first maid had nearly forgotten her existence. "You know Her Majesty loathes the songbirds," she reminded them knowingly, after finally receiving the full attention of the daydreamers. Her voice remained at the soft volume of all servants' of the castle voices: above a whisper, but lower than a soft speaker's voice, lest a guest of the castle be soft-spoken.

The first two maids gave her quick nods, and scurried back to their work. They were all too familiar with the consequences of idleness.

* * *

Ace gave his friendliest smile as he leaned back against one of the castle walls near the entrance, crossing his arms. "You know I'm not good with directions. It's not my fault, really. Anyway, it's about the journey, not the destination."

The man he was addressing furrowed his dark brows in annoyance, glaring at the knight. "This needs to be done by the week's end. I don't have any more time to waste. You've been screwing off enough as it is," he replied through gritted teeth.

The ever-joyful Ace's smile remained plastered across his face, which only served to annoy his companion more so. "Ah, you have nothing to worry about. I'll get right to it."

Realizing that arguing would get him nowhere, the dark-haired man released a deep sigh and looked off in the distance, away from the smiling-idiot's face. "I do hope so," he said despondently. With that, he nodded curtly toward Ace, and turned on his heel toward the forest with his cloak swirling behind him.

Watching the man depart so quickly, Ace couldn't help but laugh. If there was one thing he could always count on, it was that man's misery. He shook his head in pity, then left to finish the job he had promised to complete nearly a week ago. Of course, he wasn't going in the right direction; perhaps he wouldn't find his future victim for several hours, perhaps several days. So long as he got the job done before the week's end, it didn't really matter where he went in the meantime.

* * *

Vivaldi stood in the parlor of the Castle of Hearts, idly sipping her black tea and gazing out the large window that took up almost the entire eastern wall of the room. Even though the sun had risen and cast a soft yellow glow in the white room, the day's prospects seemed dim to Vivaldi.

The three territories were in an unsure state of peace, aside from the occasional scuffle between the Hatter's Mansion and the Amusement Park, and had been for some time. This so-called era of peace began with the foreigner Alice's arrival in Wonderland. She had immediately begun changing the people here; they were less inclined to be violent, if only slightly, and she had turned the attentions of the leaders of the territories toward herself, rather than the struggle for power. The power struggle was far from forgotten, but Alice was foremost on the minds of the Roleholders rather than power, nowadays.

For the queen, life had only become slightly more interesting with Alice's arrival. She still had to do her daily duties as the ruler of the castle: direct servants, sign paperwork, retain those shaky relations of friendship with the other territories, order the executions of idle servants, process the new maids and soldiers who came to replace them, and pester Peter and the king to do any other work that was to be found – what she referred to as "dirty work".

But daily duties had rapidly become boring for Vivaldi, and each day she felt more forlorn. She would say forlorn because _lonely_ was so pitiful a word that she could not bear to use it in respect to herself. Nevertheless, if one were to describe the queen frankly, the word lonely would have to be used, for this was how she felt most often. Alice's visits helped somewhat, but Alice could only visit so often, not mentioning the fact that Alice sometimes appeared genuinely frightened of the queen. The fear in the girl's eyes had at first aroused the queen's anger, which was never too far below the surface, but Vivaldi could never be angry with such an adorable girl; she had a soft spot for her.

However, a queen couldn't be seen looking forlorn. That would be undignified. Thus, Vivaldi held her head high and acted her role truly, expressing all the necessary traits: confidence, authority, competence, and intolerance. She ignored the negative feelings the best she could, and did all she could to forget them (this, of course, was impossible).

Unfortunately, there were only two events that the queen could genuinely get some enjoyment from, and one was executions. Seeing others suffer more outwardly than she did inwardly was strangely satisfying. Did this make Vivaldi sadistic? Of course. But then again, the faceless retained almost no value, and replacing them was not difficult. So what did it matter?

The other was watching Ace, that sad, lost knight. At times Vivaldi wondered if he suffered more than she, but always decided that it couldn't be possible. If he did, he would never be able to smile so often. If nothing else, he intrigued her.

But the limited amount of fancy that the queen could find did nothing to cure her loneliness.* Obviously, the cute inanimate objects she collected could only do so much. They were not actual people; they could not comfort her, care for her, _love_ her. And the king was next to nothing as a companion. Vivaldi had pined for his affections as a young woman but that of course had come to nothing. He was much too interested in the faceless women, something Vivaldi could never understand. Now, five – or was it six? - years since she had become queen, the man only deepened the queen's depression. He was a sputtering old fool, and she could never quite remember what she found attractive about him. It certainly wasn't his good looks. Ah, it no longer mattered.

The queen slowly walked across the room and gracefully sat in one of the large white armchairs. By now, she had finished her tea. "Maid!" she called out, her tone demanding and dangerous. A few seconds later, a faceless girl scurried into the room and hastily curtseyed before Vivaldi. The queen handed her the teacup, the girl quickly curtseyed again, and then left.

Vivaldi slouched back in the chair, planning to drift off to sleep just an hour since she had awoken, but saw movement out the window. _What was that?_ She carefully stood and went to the far side of the window to get a better angle at the scene before her. Ah, it was a man. Oh, only Ace; she'd recognize that horrible trench coat anywhere. But, whom was the man he was speaking with? Vivaldi didn't recall his face. Yet, he had a face, so he must have been a Roleholder. He was remarkably handsome; gloomy yes, but his angular features were... yes, a handsome man, nonetheless.

"Maid!"

The girl was in front of the queen in a matter of seconds. "What is it, Milady?" she asked politely, curtseying.

Vivaldi beckoned for the chambermaid to stand next to, her which she quickly did. She pointed one long, manicured finger at the scene unfolding before them. "With whom is Ace speaking?" Vivaldi asked in a tone unusual for her, for it was more inquiring than treacherous.

"Why, I believe that is the man who repairs the clocks, Milady."

"And what would be his name?"

"Julius Monrey, if it pleases Milady."

Vivaldi looked skeptical as the man left, with Ace quickly departing after. "Why have we not seen him before?" she asked, or perhaps, demanded.

"You have, Milady. At balls and other events, I believe," she replied uncertainly.

"Hmm… You are dismissed."

The queen remained standing in the same spot as the anxious girl fled the room, but her eyes drifted off to stare at the horizon. _Why do I not remember his face? _she pondered.

* * *

The rabbit-man commonly known as Peter White walked, or rather shuffled, through the maze of a garden outside the castle, carefully trying to avoid his duties until noontime. Or maybe until three. Heck, he could stall until seven if he wanted. And when Vivaldi asked why he was so late, he'd simply reply that the meeting was at 7 p.m. rather than 7 a.m. Sure, she'd probably be furious, but that was the least of his worries. Perhaps he could sneak off and try to find Alice...

Peter kicked up some dust on the path. His shoes were already coated with the stuff. _Hmph, this garden is quite ugly for such a wealthy castle. I think we can afford better gardeners. Maybe if Vivaldi hadn't killed off the last good ones... _He sighed under his breath. The garden was very ugly. The bushes were carefully and neatly cropped, but their branches were dry, and the ends of the leaves were browning, whereas they should be green and vibrant. Not to mention the lack of any other kind of shrubbery besides the horrid bushes. That is, unless one included the red-painted roses, which disgusted Peter with their falsity.

He looked up to the sky to see if the sun had reached its peak, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye...something _pink_. Ah, it was none other than the Cheshire cat of the damned Amusement Park, idly licking his paw atop one of the castle walls. He hadn't noticed the rabbit, who was now stealthily taking out his pocket watch, which rapidly changed into a gun. Peter aimed carefully and... _Bang! Bang!_

Peter smiled smugly at the sight of the startled cat fleeing, and carefully pocketed the clock again.

"Mr. White!"

A faceless card soldier appeared at the end of the path Peter was walking. The rabbit narrowed his eyes at the annoyance. Apparently his little game had given away his position; in other words, his impulsivity had ruined his hopes for idleness. "What?"

"The queen has an assignment for you. She wants you to invite Julius Monrey to tea with Her Highness tomorrow afternoon."

Peter raised his slender white brows in surprise. That was an odd request. Yes, what would the queen want with that miserable man of the Clock Tower? Ah, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Alice stayed at the Clock Tower. He would get to see_ Alice_.

Peter gave a sly sort of smirk and nodded to the soldier, telling him that he'd see to it immediately. (Not that he did. He only quickly turned another corner of the maze to hide himself from the soldier's sight.) Peter knew Alice all too well. He was sure that every Tuesday morning she went shopping at the market, and wouldn't return until after noon at the earliest. Thus, Peter saw the opportunity to stall for another half hour or so, in order to 'coincidentally' meet Alice at the Clock Tower later on. He continued his journey along the meandering path, a smile slowly spreading across his face in hopeful anticipation. He glanced up at the bright yellow sun, now exactly at its peak, and thought, _It's funny how things work out._

* * *

**Author's Note** – I know my view of Vivaldi here is probably different from most people; I tried to look at her from a more sympathetic perspective. Oh, and I've estimated her age to be about twenty-one or twenty-two. Pairings don't come until much later. I can handle flames/concrit, so don't go easy on me. :)

*If you've read Dickens' _Hard Times_, you know what this means. For those that haven't, and I strongly recommend that you do, 'fancy' is synonymous with 'fun'.

Beta'd by Chaosangel4us  
Beta'd by Know it all hermione


	2. Chapter 2

**Allaying Ennui** by SC-Jupe

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Around noon, Alice began to make her way to the Clock Tower, carrying a basket of goods in the crook of her arm. She was walking slowly, listening intently to the singing birds, while occasionally gazing up to admire the cloudless blue sky. It had been a nice morning; Julius had given her coffee seventy-eight points, and the vendors had been especially kind. She had easily found everything that they'd need for the next few days.

The bright green trees lining the often-trod dirt path seemed to sigh contently as a soft gale whistled through their branches. In turn, Alice sighed contently, and a smile graced her pink lips.

However, she heard a sound of rustling leaves that was not caused by the wind. Curious, Alice stopped to listen for the source. She heard the rustling leaves again in a tree on the right side of the path, just up ahead a bit further. Alice walked over to it, leaned her shoulder against the trunk, and looked up into the branches.

"Boris!"

The Cheshire cat started at the unexpected sound of his name, and looked down at the girl staring up at him. "Alice..."

She smiled. "What are you doing up there?"

"Oh, me? Nothing. Just, you know. Sitting."

Alice gave him an odd look. "Well, aren't you gonna come down? You can walk with me to the Clock Tower."

"Uh, I think I'd rather just stay up here for now."

Alice frowned. Since when had Boris ever turned down an opportunity to hang out with her? "Oh. Okay. I'll see you around then."

Boris watched her walk down the path again, and then glanced at his bleeding shoulder. _Oh, screw it._ He pounced to the ground, and jogged to catch up with Alice. "Hey."

"Oh, hello there, Boris," she returned with a smile, but then did a double-take. "Wait, what's that on your arm?" she asked, pointing to his injury.

"Oh that? It's nothing," he replied, laughing a bit nervously and scratching the back of his head with his uninjured arm.

She wasn't fazed. "No, really, Boris. I think you hurt yourself." She stepped halfway in front of him, and reached for his right arm. Boris stopped walking, and took a step backward.

"I said it's nothing."

Alice looked up at him, concern filling her eyes. "Boris, please let me see."

He sighed reluctantly. "Alright." She took his arm and examined the wound.

"Boris, you've been shot!" It was obviously fresh, as it bled freely. She estimated less than an hour old.

"It's really not bad, Alice. See, the bullet only grazed my shoulder."

She looked at him disapprovingly. "I'll use the cloth I have in my basket to stop the bleeding."

After tying said cloth securely around his shoulder, Alice picked up her basket and they began walking again. "You know, Alice, I really tried to stay out of trouble like you said," Boris said lamely. "I was really just minding my own business; I didn't go looking for a fight this time."

Alice looked at him worriedly. "Boris, were you at the Hearts Castle again?"

"Well, yeah," he replied ashamed, looking away.

She sighed sadly. "I hate seeing you get hurt, Boris."

Boris felt a pang of remorse; he hated to see Alice sad. "I'm sorry, Alice. I'll try harder."

She forced a smile. "It's alright, Boris." Then a thought occurred to her: all the card soldiers carried swords, as well as Ace. "Who did this to you Boris?"

"Uh, no one. Oh, look the Amusement Park is this way," he said, pointing to where the road forked up ahead. "See you later, Alice!"

He waved to her, and then bolted down the path.

"Bye, Boris," Alice said quietly to no one. She continued walking to the Clock Tower alone. The birds were still singing and the sky was still blue, but Alice was content no longer. _Peter is so dead when I see him._

* * *

Julius patiently worked on a small silver clock. The quiet tapping sound of metal on metal could be heard as he tinkered away at the miniscule gears. He knew he'd seen this one before; every clock was unique. This made his job more difficult, perhaps, but it also made each person in Wonderland unique. Unfortunately, Julius realized that he'd worked on this clock not too long ago, which meant a short life cycle for someone. Still, his hand never slowed, even as he came under this realization. (Julius hadn't realized this, but the older he grew, the colder his heart...or clock, became.)

He was twelve years old when he became the apprentice of the watchmaker before him. He had watched wide-eyed at the semblant miracle that occurred when a clock that seemed beyond repair began ticking softly. It had amazed him; a life had been created before his very eyes in the very hand he had just shaken a minute ago. The old watchmaker gave the naïve boy a disapproving look, and explained rather bluntly that he didn't create life; he merely repaired it. He added that the pretty little clock would be broken soon enough and find its way back here in due time. Young Julius hung his head in shame, and quietly said that he understood, sir. After that, Julius never gazed in wonder at a repaired clock under the sharp eye of the watchmaker. Eventually, the mending of clocks became routine, uneventful.

Nevertheless, Julius would still occasionally wonder at a newly fixed clock, and carefully cradle it in his palm. The life and dreams of a _soul_ were in his hand. Even though he had not created the life, he could still appreciate the wonder of it all. Sometimes he'd imagine the person it might become; other times he'd wonder if he knew the clock's former owner; but most often, he'd wonder if the clock had found some meaning in its short lifespan, and whether he might find fulfillment in his own life. Gradually, though, he realized the futility of that last thought, and seldom thought it anymore.

The older he became, the less often Julius could be found looking at a perfectly good clock. In fact, in just this moment, he was setting aside the silver one, repaired now, without so much as a second glance.

Just as he was selecting the next clock, the door across the room quietly opened to allow Alice to slowly step through. "Hi Julius," she said softly as she closed the door. Julius glanced up from his work briefly to give Alice a small nod of acknowledgement.

After dropping off the basket of goods in the kitchen, Alice carefully sat in her usual chair beside Julius's desk, resting an elbow on the wooden surface and her chin in her hand. Her blue eyes glazed over as she watched the delicate movements of the slender silver instrument Julius was now using. Unusually, she was silent, only sighing occasionally.

"Why don't you stop sighing and make me some coffee?" Julius asked without raising his eyes from his work.

Alice sat up abruptly. "I wasn't sighing!" she protested. When Julius said nothing, she mumbled, "Fine," and padded to the kitchen.

She returned and set a steaming cup of coffee on the desk, resuming her seat.

"Thanks. So, what's the matter?"

Alice's face dropped, and she shifted her gaze to the far wall. "Peter shot Boris. I know that I should be used to the violence in this world by now, but I don't think I'll ever adjust to it." She sighed again.

Julius looked at her and raised a brow. "That's it?"

Alice turned to look at him. "No," she said defiantly, anger now evident in her eyes. "I'm going to kill that damn rabbit the next time I see him!"

"Really?" Julius asked, as the ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

"Yes, really," Alice replied simply. "He's obnoxious enough as it is, and now he's hurt one of my friends," she finished, sadness replacing her anger.

Julius said nothing, but shook his head just barely. They fell into silence.

_Knock, knock._

"I'll get it," said Alice, standing quickly. She crossed the room and opened the door in a matter of seconds.

"Alice!"

A dark shadow fell over her face. "Peter..." she growled, before thumping her fist on the top of his head.

"Ow, Alice! What was that for?" whined the rabbit, rubbing his head where she had hit him.

"It's for shooting Boris, dumbass! He's my friend, you know."

Peter's face dropped, and his eyes widened. "Oh, Alice! I didn't know that you liked the Cheshire cat!"

Alice's cheeks colored a pale pink. "I like him as a _friend_, Peter. And I don't appreciate you shooting my _friends_," she replied boldly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Oh," Peter said with some relief. Then, "I'm sorry Alice! I promise that I'll try not to shoot him again. Please forgive me!" he pleaded, clasping his hands together.

The girl rolled her eyes. "You'll _try_?"

Then there was a flash of light, and Peter was in rabbit form. Alice looked down upon the adorable little creature Peter had become, tiny red waistcoat, pocket watch, and spectacles included. "Please forgive me, Alice!"

The girl tried to remind herself that no matter how cute he looked now, Peter was still and always would be the annoying man she knew him as. But he was so cute... She lifted Peter up, and cradled his in her arms, staring into his little red eyes. She said seriously, "As long as you promise Peter, I'll forgive you. _This_ time."

The rabbit beamed brightly. "Oh, thank you, Alice!"

Alice returned the smile and hugged him tightly. Then a thought occurred to her. "By the way, why did you come here, Peter? I hope not to annoy me..." she asked, pulling out of the embrace.

"Oh, that's right! I almost forgot," Peter said. Then he slowly smiled as he remembered his actual reason for coming. "Julius, the queen has invited you to tea with Her Highness tomorrow afternoon."

Alice's and Julius's eyes widened.

"Really?" Alice asked, a smile beginning to cross her lips.

Peter nodded to assure her it was true; Alice set the rabbit down just before she burst into hysterical laughter.

Julius glared at her over his spectacles, still seated behind his desk. "I don't see the humor in this."

"Vivaldi...invited...you..." Alice managed to gasp out. Finally, she composed herself, and simply stood near the door, giving Julius a huge smile.

At this point, Julius directed his attention to Peter. "Did she say why?" he asked bluntly.

"No."

The watchmaker rolled his eyes in annoyance, and briefly evaluated the situation. Obviously, he didn't want to see the queen. He had no business with her, and preferred staying in the Clock Tower at all times. On the other hand, he did not want to cross Vivaldi, who was known for removing the heads of those who crossed her. He'd certainly have to think more on this. Finally, "You can tell the queen that I've received her request," he stated, then returned his attention to the golden clock on his desk.

"Wait, so are you going or not?" Alice asked, confused.

Julius remained silent.

Peter was likewise confused. "So you _are_ accepting Vivaldi's invitation?"

Without looking up, Julius replied simply, "Tell the queen that I have received her request."

"Julius, stop being difficult," Alice remonstrated.

"I'm not saying it again."

"Alright then, Julius, I'll let you think on it. I just hope the next time I come back here it won't be for your head," Peter said with a smile. "Oh, and bye, Alice!" he added with a small wave before leaving.

Alice looked worried as she took her usual chair by the watchmaker's desk. "Julius, are you really going to snub Vivaldi?"

"I don't believe that's any of your business, Alice."

"I'm serious, Julius. You really don't want to see Vivaldi angry," she warned. _She's scary enough when she's not angry... _Alice added in her head.

"I said it's not your business."

Alice's face darkened and she stood. "Fine, then, don't talk to me." She started toward her room, but before she left, added, "And _you're welcome_ for going to the market for you."

"I hate people," Julius muttered after she left. He set down his instrument and removed his glasses, wiping them with the sleeve of his shirt, before deciding that he needed some air.

* * *

On the top of the Clock Tower, Julius leaned on the cold stone wall as a refreshingly cool breeze washed over him. He looked over the land, seeing that it was much too dark to make out any specific objects. Yet, there were two places that still had lights on: the Castle of Hearts and the Hatter Mansion. _They're probably all hopped up on black tea, _he thought dismally, looking to the sky. It wasn't a clear night; odd, since it had been a cloudless day. Grey clouds drifted overhead. Nevertheless, he could still see the moon. A last quarter moon. In a week, it wouldn't be visible at all. (A charming omen, really.)

Julius first tried to figure out _why_ the queen had invited him. He had never spoken to her in his life, and she had never spoken to him. In fact, he wasn't even exactly sure what she looked like, for he had never taken a good look at her, either. It had not mattered. (Not much did.) It could be that she simply wanted to meet him, and over tea was a casual way to make acquaintances. However, he quickly discarded that idea. Who would want to meet the _mortician_? The man hated by nearly all? That made no sense.

The more likely reason, he supposed, would be to order his execution. Perhaps he had accidentally offended the queen in some indirect way? Vivaldi had a short temper, that much he knew. Perhaps his mere existence had angered her? But that reason, though slightly more likely in his mind, wasn't very plausible.

Now, Julius tried to gather the little bits of knowledge that he had of the queen. From the balls that she hosted, he could tell that she was imperious, demanding, and easily aggravated. Yet, he recalled Alice being friends with her, and Alice generally spoke of Vivaldi in a positive way.

But, Julius disliked all people in general, with few exceptions (namely, Alice most of the time and Ace some of the time). So it was highly unlikely that he would enjoy _any_ part of tea with the queen.

Unfortunately, the factor lurking in the back of his mind was the queen's temper – her best known quality. If he snubbed her, there was a good chance, in Julius's mind, that his head would roll. Not to mention the fact that Peter was her prime minister, and Ace her knight, two powerful Roleholders. (No one was quite sure where Ace's loyalties lied, so Julius did not count on him for protection.)

Julius pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and breathed a long sigh of annoyance.

* * *

**Author's Note – **Sorry there's no Vivaldi in this chapter. She'll be in the next one. And I apologize for the slow update as well. I actually had this written last week, but I've been so busy I forgot to post it. XP Thank you to all who reviewed! XD Reviews are very helpful! Especially if you can tell me what you liked/didn't like. It will be much appreciated. :)

Beta'd by Chaosangel4us  
Beta'd by Know it all hermione


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